Where a Brother Needs to Be
by Ridley C. James
Summary: Tag for Episode 2:20 Skyscraper & Power. Jack pays a late night visit to help with his partner's insomnia. Everyone knows tacos, beer, and a fireside chat are the cure for anything that ails.


Where a Brother Needs to Be

By: Ridley

A/N: Tag for Episode: 2:20 Skyscraper-Power. There was so much I loved about this episode, especially Jack calling Mac, Angus. I'm not sure if that is a first on the show because we read it so much in fic. Lol. But it was nice to hear on the screen. This is just a little conversation I would have also liked to have seen. I hope you enjoy. Thanks to Mary, as always.

RcJ

"Show up in every single moment like you're meant to be there." –Marie Forleo

The house was deceptively quiet. As Jack Dalton used his key and entered the darkened space, he momentarily questioned his wisdom in the late night run to his and Mac's favorite taco joint, The White Duck. It was past a reasonable hour for a visit, but then again he was family and there were no parameters for dropping by or coming over. The spill of light from the streetlamps outside assisted Jack in maneuvering through the familiar rooms. Jack might not have lived there, technically, but he'd learned long ago that four walls, some sheet rock, and the pillow you laid your head down on at night didn't qualify a place as a permanent address. Rather, the people you claimed as your own created the space you called home. For Jack, that meant Mac's place would by proxy be his, at least as long as the kid would have him. Bozer, who paid rent, might have disagreed, especially if Jack woke him up at an ungodly hour.

He'd brought Bozer's favorite just in case that happened, but the loud snoring coming from his teammate's room as he made his way toward Mac's was a good indication that not only would Jack not be facing Bozer's wrath at the midnight intrusion, but he'd also be able to eat his taco, too. When Jack opened Mac's door, it was looking like he might have the whole dang meal to himself, as only the glow of a lamp in the corner lit the room and Mac was not slumped over his desk as Jack had expected. One glance at the still neatly made bed and Jack's worries about eating a hell of a midnight snack by himself were relieved.

"I hope you brought the orange ginger sauce I like." Mac's quiet voice came from behind the door and Jack whirled with a curse under his breath.

"Damn it, Angus. You nearly gave me a heart attack." Jack shifted the six pack of beer he'd almost dropped at the unexpected greeting. His best friend had changed in to an old MIT shirt, some sweats and looked like he was ready to turn in. Only the tell-tale determination in his weary blue gaze revealed the truth. Mac was gearing up for an all-nighter. The older agent shook his head. "What the hell man?"

"Asks the guy who's sneaking around my house in the middle of the night." Mac grinned, folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm not _sneaking_. I'm being respectful of those who might actually be trying to get a good night's sleep. Something you should try for a change, bud." Jack gave the kid a blatant once over. He couldn't help to wonder when was the last time his partner had actually gotten more than a long nap. Despite the cocky grin the evidence of one too many sleepless nights were starting to show. It was all becoming a little too reminiscent of the time when they'd returned from Afghanistan and Jack had to work hard at shoving his genuine worry aside to offer the kid his own smug smirk. "You look like shit, son."

" _That_ little hurtful observation just lost you your tip." Mac grabbed the bag of food, as if he'd called in the delivery himself and was expecting it. He returned Jack's smirk, nodding his head towards the door that would take them to the patio. "I started a fire. Want to eat outside?"

"At least you haven't lost your appetite." Jack motioned for his partner to precede him, sighing at Mac's seemingly never ending supply of energy as the younger man bounded ahead. It was both blessing and curse, one that served the kid well, but one that could also be like a sneaky enemy, turning the tables when Jack's partner least expected or needed it.

"I never lose my appetite." Mac assured, as they stepped out into the warm night air. He gave Jack a one-shoulder shrug. "I just don't always find eating a priority, especially when I'm pressed for time and need to put my energy elsewhere."

"How many times do I have to explain to you that food is a basic need, brother? It actually provides energy." Looking at Mac one would not guess he could actually, and often did, out eat Jack. Mac's metabolism, like his brain, seemed to be kicked into some other super charged level that surpassed your typical human being. Jack sometimes marveled at the amount of food the kid could put away and still stay stick-like. It reminded Jack of a quarter horse he'd once owned. The animal could eat its weight in oats and hay and still look neglected.

"Calories actually provide energy, and I make sure that I get high density foods that provide plenty of joules for my activity level." Mac sat down by the fire pit, tearing into one of the bags like he'd not had whatever _joules_ he needed in days. Jack rolled his eyes, joining the kid. He put the beers between them, letting Mac dig through the contents.

He held up the extra sauce Jack had requested for him in triumph. "I'm not sure this is a high quality energy supplier, but the fat and sugar will keep me burning the midnight oil."

"I didn't bring you food to keep you up all night, bud." Jack sighed again, opening a beer and handing it off to his partner.

"Because nothing says nighty-night like a full-on taco and beer buffet." Mac glanced up from spreading the thick, orange glaze over his Bangkok shrimp. He took the sweating bottle with another smile that told Jack the kid was on to him. "Is this supposed to be like my sippy cup of warm milk?"

"Haha, smartass. You'd rather I brought chamomile tea and porridge?" Jack ran a hand over his hair, once more doubting the wisdom in his move. Honestly, he'd just wanted an excuse to check in on the kid. After the high of their little rescue mission had worn off, Mac had barely spoken a handful of words on the plane ride back stateside. Jack suspected it had a lot to do with the father and son reunion they had orchestrated. Jack was quite certain that Mac's heart- felt speech to Jericho about losing his son had been as much about one particular twenty-six year old as it had been about the foul-mouthed tween they'd pulled from the clutches of his would-be kidnappers.

Mac licked some spilled sauce off his fingers, shooting Jack a sidelong glance. "I'm not sure there's exactly a drive thru in LA for that sort of thing, big guy."

"We can always wake Momma Bozer and have him whip you up something warm and comforting if that's what you want."

"No, this is perfect." Mac dumped the rest of the bag, handing Jack his tried and true steak and cheese taco, as well as Bozer's Thai Peanut Chicken. Jack didn't miss the slight shake of his partner's hand. "I didn't realize how hungry I was until I actually tried to go to sleep. My brain and my belly were competing as to who was going to be the biggest detractor from me reaching my goal of REM."

"I'm guessing your brain won out in the end?" Jack unwrapped the brown wax paper holding his food, trying to look as if he were concentrating on not spilling any of the delicious contents instead of actually calculating how much decent sleep the kid had actually achieved over the last three weeks and whether it was time to have a serious intervention. The more hyper-activity Mac displayed seemed to correlate with Jack being convinced the kid was actually in a state of exhaustion. That didn't really make sense, but with Mac, things rarely did.

"Actually I was about to go ransack the kitchen when I heard your attempts at stealth." Mac picked up his taco and took the first bite, maintaining an amused expression as he chewed.

"My stealth is unmatched. You just know me too well." Jack watched the kid pretty much consume half his shrimp feast, and nudged Bozer's Thai chicken taco back in Mac's direction. His stomach didn't handle spicy food after dark like it used to anyway. Jack waved a hand towards Mac's room. "Just like I knew you'd be pouring over the pieces of your dad's puzzle despite not having any rest since before our latest mission."

"I know you think I've been burning the candle at both ends." Mac met Jack's gaze, a frown momentarily gracing the kid's face. It revealed the lines of weariness that the earlier easy smiles and nonchalant grins hid. "But I know how far I can push myself. There were times at MIT during exams that I didn't sleep for a week, living on coffee and granola bars. I can handle it."

"You're not a seventeen year old college kid, Mac." Jack eyed Mac's paler than usual face. He didn't want to point out that Mac now carried a whole lot of baggage in that ginormous brain of his, none of which had to do with quantum physics and mathematical equations. It was an added weight that didn't allow him the opportunity to push himself to near exhaustion, at least not without some potentially harmful side effects. Mac's mind could be as laden with booby-traps as an IED strewn stretch of dessert. Just like Jack's, and every other vet who'd made it back from the hell that was war. Jack bumped his partner's elbow to lighten the mood, knowing delving into some serious discussion about the triggers for PTSD was not the way to go. "Hey, I used to be the life of the party back in the day, too, although I spent my time at keg parties and studying the pretty co-eds instead of cracking books in the library. Even the best of us has to admit when it's time to give up the night owl life style."

"Some of us are a lot younger than others." Mac tried for another shit-eating grin. He cocked an eyebrow, challenging Jack to deny the age gap that could have easily made it possible for Jack to have sired the kid, but in no way, shape, or form was large enough to make him his partner's crusty grandpa, as Mac liked to insinuate.

"Even a mere babe in the woods like yourself can't keep going at this pace without some kind of backlash." Jack understood the one way to combat the stress of what they'd endured in Afghanistan and what they dealt with on a daily basis from their current job was to stay one step ahead of the mental traps. That meant getting enough of the basics, like food, fun and sleep.

"Do you think I'm slacking on the job? That my head's not in the game, like when I was searching for Nikki?" Some of Mac's good natured humor was giving way to a hint of familiar prickliness. The frown was back on his face.

"Hell no." Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the muscles across his shoulders bunch. Although the two situations had some parallels, Jack didn't have the same concerns he'd held back then when his partner was determined to bring his ex-girlfriend to justice. For one, he'd not wanted Nikki anywhere near Mac, afraid she'd finish the job she'd started before Jack had a chance to finish her. Come to think of it, Jack wasn't completely sure of James MacGyver's intentions or his ability to run interference, so maybe…

"Then what?" Mac interrupted before Jack's line of thinking could go somewhere he wasn't entirely ready to venture. He had to believe that whatever the senior MacGyver's reasoning for abandoning his ten year old son had been, there was at the very core a desire to protect his kid and hopefully not some selfish ulterior motive that might force Jack to kill him.

"You're the one who's actually been my biggest supporter in this search. You had me write my dad in the first place. You broke into Matty's house to find more information." Mac's frown now turned to a look of doubt, one that sent a chilling shard of pain through Jack. In that moment the kid looked deflated, the exhaustion showing once more clearly. "Are you saying I should just quit now? That it's not worth it?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. Look, bud…" Jack shook his head, putting his beer down as he recognized their conversation had traveled into territory he'd not expected. Mac could easily become so focused on a problem that he was oblivious to everything else around him. That was where Jack came in, only this time Jack couldn't help but to feel partially responsible for throwing the kid his latest bone. "If you were anyone but _you_ , I'd expect all the energy you're exerting in finding your dad to at least put a strain on your work, but you are you, and if anything you've only been more hyper-focused and on task. It's not the damn job that I'm worried about suffering, it's you, brother. Something has got to give at some point, and I'm not willing to let that something that breaks be you. Understand?"

"I'm handling it, Jack." Mac's voice was somber now, serious. He reached for Bozer's taco, unwrapping it Jack suspected as a way to keep his hands busy more than a sign of his ravenous appetite. When he looked at Jack again, there was a hint of desperation, a need for Jack to believe him. "I'm not having nightmares. My dreams are normal. No flashbacks either. I'm fine, really."

"That's good to hear, brother." Jack reached out and bumped Mac's knee, grinning. "Although I'm not sure dreaming of unicorns is exactly normal."

"That depends on the litmus you're using. It may not be on your scale of bikini clad models on horseback, but at least it's not a horror show with the sandbox as a backdrop." Mac took a bite of the taco, seeming to enjoy it almost as much as he had his first.

"Touche'." Jack lifted his beer, tipping it towards his best friend before taking a long drink. He might not be completely convinced his partner would tell him if he were experiencing any signs of trouble but he'd take the fact Mac wasn't completely rebuffing his worry and was willing to open a dialogue as a healthy sign. "I'll take your weird teacher classroom fantasy over a walk in the desert any day."

"Maybe the whole idea of unicorns being mythical beasts is some kind of metaphor for me trying to track down my dad," Mac grabbed a napkin, wiping his mouth. He shot Jack a raised brow, shrugging. "Seeing as how he's proving as hard to capture as one of the legendary creatures it makes a weird sort of sense."

"Don't you have to be a virgin to wrangle a unicorn?" Jack asked, enjoying the fact his partner almost choked on his next bite of Thai chicken.

"What?" Mac put the taco down, grabbing his beer instead. He took a drink and swallowed. "Where did you get that?"

"I think I read somewhere that only the purest of heart and body can actually call a unicorn." Jack might have been confusing his mythology but if it seemed to swing the kid's dark mood, what the hell. He grinned at the kid, bobbing his eyebrows. "That might mean your non-existent sex life could explain the appearance of a whole herd of horned beasts."

"Shut up." Mac's face colored. "My sex life is not on the table for discussion. Ever."

"Alright, but I'm thinking if we really want something to put us both to sleep, that might be just the topic." Jack winked at his partner. "I'm pretty sure it's as much of a snooze fest as some of those documentaries you've made me watch."

"I think I'd rather take my chances with the food and your company doing the trick," Mac came back, stuffing the rest of Bozer's taco in his mouth.

"Hey, you are the genius." Jack leaned forward, rolling the beer bottle between his hands.

"I don't feel like much of one at the moment." Mac rolled up the paper wrapping, tossing it into the fire. His face growing serious again. He rubbed a hand over his face and Jack could make out the shadows, slight moon-sized bruises under Mac's eyes in the flickering firelight."In fact, I feel like I'm missing some simple thing. It's like you said, what if my dad is sending me all these clues to tell me where he is, and I'm completely blowing it."

Jack turned his head to frown at the kid. "Hey now, I think considering the few meager pieces you've had to work with, you've done a hell of a job."

"Jack, the only thing we know that we didn't know a year ago is all the places my dad _isn't_ hiding." Mac took a drink of his beer, picking at the label. His shoulders slumped slightly. "The whole thing is more convoluted now than it was when I merely had a returned letter."

Jack hated the weary sound of defeat he could detect in the kid's tone. It didn't suit Mac and it added one more nail to James MacGyver's coffin. "We know Matty knew your old man and that the CIA was interested in what he was doing."

"A fact that only presents more questions." Mac pointed out with a long huff of breath. "I can't imagine my dad ever being involved with The Farm. Let's just say he was always anti-establishment."

"There's the Chuck Heffer guy." Jack was reaching and knew it.

"Charles Pfeffer." Mac corrected. "Who is pretty much a ghost. I told you he apparently vanished into thin air seventy years ago from Ellis."

"Still, who would have thought you'd be able to track down _one_ man out of the millions who went through those death camps." Jack was genuinely impressed. When Mac had explained the odds he'd even doubted his partner's success in naming the man. "Dude, you found the proverbial needle in a haystack. Only _you_ could have done that."

"Only I still feel like I'm letting my dad down."

"How do you figure?" Jack raised up, putting his beer down. He turned so that he was facing his partner. For a freaking genius, Mac could sometimes add two and two and come up with negative ten.

"What if he's in trouble? What if I missed something and I'm putting his life at risk? I could be making things worse and not even know it." Mac's voice was quiet though laden with a heavy mix of emotions.

"Do I need to point out that you didn't start this big game of hide and seek that you never wanted to play in the first place. You sent a letter, offered an olive branch." An act Jack had pushed for, and now at times regretted. Whatever blowback Mac took from this damn search, Jack was going to feel partially responsible. "As far as I see it, your dad is the main party at fault in this scenario. He's the one who let you down and if he's in trouble it more than likely started a long damn time ago when you were an innocent kid. Blaming you for whatever he got himself into would be like blaming that wolf pup of a kid we rescued today for his rich daddy being targeted by crazed terrorists with an agenda."

"I get what you're saying, Jack, I do but…"

"No buts, brother." Jack pointed a finger at his best friend. "Would you want that Jericho kid to think he was to blame for his father's lack of attention? That maybe he wasn't good enough and that's why his dad spent more time wheeling and dealing on Wall Street than trying to be a good father?"

"Of course not. He's just a kid. His father's poor choices have nothing to do with him." Mac ran a hand through his hair, his gaze staying locked to the flames of the fireplace. "He just wants to be the most important thing for a change, to spend time with his dad."

"Exactly." Mac looked at him and Jack hoped to hell his genius partner could extrapolate that scenario to his own. He searched Mac's gaze. "Your father is responsible for whatever he's gotten himself into. This is not your fault, Angus. It was never your fault."

After a long moment and bit of a stare off between the two, Mac's mouth twitched. "You mean unlike anytime your cell phone is destroyed in the name of a mission?"

"That's for damn sure." Jack rolled his eyes at having the earlier words he'd spoken in the skyscraper tossed back at him, but he was secretly pleased when Mac's mouth tipped up in a familiar cocky smile. "My cell phone and your old man's business are on completely opposite sides of the Mac Makes a Mess of Things Spectrum."

Mac's gaze went from Jack to the older man's half-eaten taco. Jack pushed the rest of his food the kid's way, not surprised when Mac took the offering without one moment's hesitation. He lifted it to his mouth, but paused before eating it. He glanced at Jack. "Bozer seems to think this may just be another case of my dad's unique way of showing he loves me, sort of like Ralph Jericho microchipping his son."

"Then Bozer and I have two very different definitions of a certain four lettered word." Jack was pretty sure he and Jericho didn't share the same meaning of love either, although if pressed he'd have to admit he'd considered chipping Mac, especially after the whole Murdoc madness. He glanced over his shoulder before turning his heated gaze back on his partner who was still chewing. "Maybe Bozer and I should talk about some other differences of opinions, like for instance him keeping his completely erroneous and non-helpful ones to himself."

Mac washed his food down with a drink of his beer. "I'm probably presenting his comment out of context," he said holding up a hand to hold off Jack's temper as if the kid realized he had thrown gas onto tinder and struck a match. The attempt was as about as helpful as blowing on an out of control campfire, but he continued on. "We were talking about how my dad always encouraged me to find my own answers to questions instead of merely regurgitating information. He preferred to foster an environment in which I could investigate and discover insights on my own. Like when I really wanted a computer for my birthday, and he gave me two books on how to build my own instead."

"No offense, but it sounds like your old man was a creative cheapskate, bud," Jack huffed, not feeling one bit better about James MacGyver. Sometimes a kid needed a dad, not a professor and it was easy for Bozer to dole out platitudes when he pretty much had the equivalent of a perfect family life, one he kindly shared with Mac, but still. "Were the do it yourself guides borrowed from the Mission City library?"

Mac's mouth twitched, and he shrugged. "Something like that."

"Look, I'm all for teaching a kid to stand on his own two feet. My dad used to take me up in his plane and pretend to fall asleep while I was co-piloting. The sneaky bastard had me convinced he had narcolepsy." Jack ran a hand down his mouth, trying to reign in his emotions. He'd be the first to admit he was having a few issues of his own the closer they came to finding James MacGyver, like the guy might undo all the work he'd put into making Mac realize how damn awesome he was. He met his best friend's gaze and he tried to keep the frustration from his voice so the kid wouldn't think it was directed at him.

"I'm not knocking your old man's parenting style either because he obviously did a few things right, at least in the time he was around, but if this goose chase he's sent you on over the last year is some kind of teachable moment, and hasn't come about from a genuine life or death dire necessity, me and MacGyver Senior are going to have one hell of a long chat about what being a dad really means. And by chat, I mean I'm going to kick his ass. For his sake, putting you through hell better not be some genius's version of tough love."

When Jack's tirade was finished Mac looked neither worried nor surprised by Jack's declaration of intent towards the sperm donor who'd contributed DNA material to the man Jack secretly considered mostly _his_ kid. After all, Jack had been around eight years of Mac's life, going on nine, not even two shy of what James had invested. Jack also hadn't made the kid work for his attention or win his favor by proving how smart he was. Jack liked to think that he had- as Mac challenged Jericho to do with his own son-put in the time to help Mac become the man he was. It wasn't something he was going to sit back and watch as Mac's father toppled it like some house of cards.

"I hope you'll at least give my dad a chance to explain before you punch him in the face." Mac lifted a brow, a genuine smile back in place.

"I consider myself a fair man, at least most of the time." Jack hadn't killed Elwood Davis. He'd given him the space he and Riley needed to build something new. Surely, he could do the same with Mac and his old man, although the thoughts of stepping back and allowing that to cultilvate had his chest aching again. He blamed the unusual pain on his taco and nodded at Mac. "I promise you when we find him, I'll let him plea his case before I pummel him."

"You mean _if_ we find him." Mac's grin wavered slightly.

"No, Jack Dalton stands by the meaning of his words. W _hen_ we find him, brother. When." Jack had no doubts that Mac would finish what he started. He just wanted Mac in a healthy, whole state of mind when it happened, just in case what he was looking for didn't turn out to be the great prize he'd imagined. Jack would be there to pick up the dismantled pieces whatever happened, but he preferred to keep the carnage to a minimum thank you very much, because unlike some men, he had his priorities straight. Wealthy empires and cutting edge breakthroughs in science were nothing compared to the legacy of a family. Nothing and no one was more important to Jack than the kid sitting across from him.

"You have some kind of stroke of genius on that silver lining speech you gave me earlier?" Mac asked. "How's thinking outside the box going for you?"

"It got me to realize that now that you have a name we might be able to call in a favor from our favorite Five Star General. You up for reaching out to Hammond?" Jack bobbed his eyebrows. Mac had wanted to keep their investigation in house, meaning it was limited to their team. Mac trusted Perseus Hammond, but the search for his father was on a completely different level.

"Hammond would have access to records we aren't even able to get our hands on, including ones from the war." Mac seemed to turn the idea over, considering an angle they hadn't been able to work so far. "He may even be able to get us camp records from Germany."

"It pays to have friends in high places. You up for calling the old man?"

Mac glanced at his dad's watch. "It's like three o'clock in the morning in Washington, Jack."

"Which means you have plenty of time to catch a few hours of sleep, bud." Jack motioned towards Mac's room. "Why don't you hit the hay for a while? You'll need to be sharp to barter with the old man. You know how he gets."

"Why do I have a feeling that _this_ was your plan all along?" Mac raised a brow.

"Plan? You make it sound like I came over here with the sole intent of feeding you and tucking you into bed. Which would be ridiculous because we both know you are a grown ass man instead of some little kid who needs his helicopter parent hovering about."

" _One_ of us knows that." Mac snorted, picking up the last of Jack's taco and shoveling it in his mouth before killing the half empty bottle of beer to wash it down. When he was finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking at Jack. "The _old fart_ who's not convinced in the least about the matter can stay and clean up this mess and douse the fire before he lets himself out with all the stealth he used while sneaking in."

Jack ignored the dig on his age. "Well that awesome, thoughtful guy thinks he'll just stay in the spare room if you don't mind." He stood, tossing the rest of their left over paper and napkins into the fire. "Just a matter of convenience for when we get back to work on the Where's Waldo mystery tomorrow. Matty did give us the day off for a job well done. Maybe we can do some of the research down at the beach."

"What about the war your ancient back and my prehistoric futon have going on?" Mac stood, stretching before focusing his gaze back on his partner. "Is it really worth the off chance Bozer will cook breakfast for you and I'll agree to some surfing?"

"Don't worry about my back." Jack flashed Mac a frown. Damned if the kid didn't know him well. "If I can totally pull a John McClain on a Die Hard mission and still be walking upright, I think I can swing a night on that beast you call a guest bed."

"As long as I don't wake up to find you camped out on the floor by _my_ bed." When Jack raised a brow as if he'd been considering it, Mac pointed his empty beer bottle at him. "I mean it, man. If I wake up to you watching me sleep, I'm taking your keys away. Permanently."

"I respect your space completely, brother. If I push the boundaries of your personal bubble, consider them surrendered." Jack lifted his hands in acquiescence. After Mac had given his patented eye roll and a muttered 'yeah, right', Jack grinned. "It's not like I need them to get in anyway. I'm a damn Delta for crying out loud," he called to his partner's retreating back.

More importantly, Jack thought to himself as he watched the kid go, there wasn't a lock, or a door, or a _man_ around-including the mysterious James MacGyver- that would keep him from being exactly where Angus MacGyver needed him to be.

The End for now…


End file.
